Page 3

Chapter 3

I can’t report on his abs

Callie

These ridiculous shoes were killing my feet. I kicked them off as soon as I was safely in the door of my condo. Thwack. Thwack. They hit the wall and slid to the floor.

“That you, Callie?”

I rolled my eyes. Who else did Darcy think would be coming in the front door? “No, it’s the ghost of your last hookup.” Darcy had a much more exciting sex life than I did. I came around the corner of the living room and found him stretched out on the couch, still in his work clothes. His polo shirt had the cinema logo on it, and there was a smell of burnt popcorn. He was watching something on TV, but he paused it. “How was work?”

Darcy didn’t even acknowledge I’d spoken. “Holy shit, Callie, is that what you wore to your thing tonight?”

I’d had enough insults on my dress, thank you very much. “Yes, it is. It’s designer. It’s fine.”

Darcy sat up and stared at me in horror. “Seriously, Callie, that is a fucking awful dress.”

I looked down, trying to understand why two guys had such problems with the dress. “It’s green. That’s a good color for me, right?”

Darcy finally closed his jaw but shook his head. “No, goose-turd green is shit for anyone. Why didn’t you let me help?”

Because I was a grown-ass woman. I wanted to make partner, and needing someone to pick out my clothes was infantile. I crossed my arms. “I’m not a child.”

“Sweetie, I picked out better clothing when I was a child. I mean…it doesn’t even fit you.”

“Yes, it does. It’s my size.”

“If it’s your size, why does it only touch your tits and ass? The rest is like a sac.”

I blinked. This had been an important event. If I’d looked as terrible as Darcy thought, I might have hurt my chances of impressing the partners. I bit my lip. “Is it really that bad?”

Darcy sighed. It was.

“Why didn’t you take me shopping with you?”

I looked at the floor.

“Callie?”

“IkindaforgotitwascomingandIhadtogetsomethingfast.”

Darcy held up his hand. “Breathe and say it so that I understand.”

I puffed out my cheeks. “I forgot it was coming up and I needed something fast. You were working, and I should be able to buy a dress. I’m thirty years old.”

Darcy rubbed his forehead. “Where did you go? Did you go to Eaton Centre? Bloor Village?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.

“Call-i-o-pe.” When Darcy stretched out my name like that, I knew he was upset.

I gave in. “I went to that consignment shop.”

“Callie!” he yelped.

“I know, but I hate spending so much money on clothes. And this was in my size, and it was green…”

I’d messed up, and it was my own fault. My own, stupid, penny-pinching fault. I had money now, but it was difficult to change after never having had it. I had loans to pay off. And a savings account to build. When you grew up with nothing, it was hard to take money for granted.

Darcy stood. “Let’s both get into something comfy. I’ll dig out the ice cream and you can tell me all about it.”

I felt the tension draining, leaving me loose and tired. “That would be great, Darce.”

He gave me a push down the hallway to my room, turning into the chaos of his own.

Darcy and I met in foster care. We were opposites in almost every way, but somehow we’d bonded and become friends. When we aged out and were on our own, we teamed up. I trusted very few people, but I trusted him.

We’d been roommates for years. When I’d saved up the down payment for this condo, I’d asked Darcy to keep rooming with me. I charged him less than I would anyone else, and while it helped with the mortgage, I mostly wanted my friend around. I didn’t want a roommate I didn’t know. Growing up, I hadn’t been able to control my circumstances and I’d lived with too many people who were happy to steal my stuff, or worse, when I was asleep and vulnerable. My condo was my haven.

I curled up on the couch in loose shorts and a baggy sweatshirt. June meant the weather had warmed up, but we had AC on. Darcy had put on sweats, leaving his polo and khakis in a pile on his floor, I knew. I had no idea how he always looked so put together when he went out, since his possessions were scattered all over his room. My room was painfully tidy, and I never looked half as good as he did.

He brought over a pint of ice cream—store brand because it was much better value, especially if you poured name-brand chocolate sauce all over it—and two spoons, as well as the chocolate sauce. He dribbled chocolate on top of the ice cream and passed me a spoon.

“Okay, spill. You went to the big dinner with the hockey players.”

I nodded. Invitations to the charity events, like this dinner and the golf tournament, were the first steps to making partner. I wanted a job where I couldn’t be fired on a whim, and to have my home paid off. Enough money saved up to make sure I’d always have a safe place to live and food to eat.

Darcy took a spoonful of chocolate-covered ice cream and asked, “How hot did they look in person?”

I considered while I licked my spoon. I wasn’t a hockey fan. I wasn’t any kind of sportsball fan. It wasn’t something I’d had time for. “We had John Deeker at our table, and his wife.”

Darcy put on an exaggerated pout. “He’s not one of the hotties, and he’s straight. Come on, who else?”

“I think they’re all straight.”

Darcy shrugged. “Maybe. But if they’re not married, I can dream, right? Some of them statistically are bi or gay, but not out. It’s math. In my mind, those guys are single. So, did you meet any of the single players?”

My cheeks felt warm. Why should I be embarrassed about whatever had happened with Cooper? Who I thought—hoped—was single since he’d talked about me being his friend date. “Cooper was there.”

Darcy sat up, ice cream forgotten. “Seriously? Cooper? That man is incredible. So ripped, and those eyes…” Darcy pretended to swoon.

I rescued the ice cream, only half full now. “He was wearing a suit, so I can’t report on his abs.”

“You don’t need to. I’ve seen the ads.”

I didn’t ask him what ads because they were everywhere. Six-plus-feet of mostly naked man reclining on something, blond hair perfect, blue eyes giving a sexy frown at everyone passing by. I hadn’t studied them but they were impossible to ignore. I didn’t remember what brand of underwear was being advertised, but I did remember Cooper. Even if it had taken me a minute to recognize him in a tux, I’d have recognized him right away if he’d been mostly naked.

“I talked to him. A bit. And…”

Darcy’s eyes were wide. “And what? Did he ask you out?” Before I could answer, he shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t have when you were wearing that dress. Damn it, Callie, this could have been your chance.”

I wasn’t looking for a chance. Not with Cooper. Or any of the other players, or any guy. I was better off on my own. Safer. But part of me wanted to rub it in. Let Darcy know that even with the dress he hated—to be fair, Cooper did too—I’d gotten a date. Sort of.

Now that I was back in my place, not staring at that gorgeous face, I didn’t really expect to get a call from Cooper. He had his choice of women, and probably did that whole golf lesson/wedding date thing to get my number as a dare or something. It had happened before. But if he’d helped me with golf and the country club…that would have been great.

I scooped up a big spoonful of ice cream, swirled it in chocolate sauce, and spoke just before stuffing my mouth with yummy goodness. “Cooper asked me to go to his sister’s wedding.”

Darcy was an attractive man, but the bugged-out eyes and dropped jaw did not make him look his best. It was revenge for his assessment of my dress.

Of course, I got a freezie headache from the big bite of ice cream I’d taken. I rubbed my head and grimaced, while I pressed my tongue on the roof of my mouth. “Damn it. Why did I do that?”

Darcy pointed his spoon at me. “That’s karmic revenge for trying to fool me like that.”

I blinked, tears threatening. I blinked harder. I didn’t cry. I certainly didn’t cry because my best friend couldn’t believe Cooper, the hockey player, had wanted me as his date. Hell, I didn’t believe it, and I’d been there.

It was hard to fool Darcy. He’d known me too long, too well. “Shit, that was a horrible thing to say. I’m sorry, Callie.”

I shrugged. Just more proof that I shouldn’t expect a phone call from any hockey player. I needed to find another way to prepare for this golf thing. I’d lost out on the silent auction. I couldn’t blow all my money on golf lessons any more than I could on fancy dresses.

Darcy stared at me. “You weren’t joking, were you?”

“ He probably was. He won’t call.”

Darcy leaned over and grabbed my hand, preventing me from getting more ice cream, damn him. “Wait, Cooper has your phone number?”

Now I was worried. “Should I have made one up? He’s not going to do something horrible with it, is he?”

Darcy squeezed my arm and let go. “I don’t think NHL superstars get phone numbers to prank people.” He squinched up his nose. “Well, maybe their teammates, but not people they don’t know. That wouldn’t be cool.”

Or nice.

“So, just tell me what happened.”

I relayed the story: the golf lesson auction item, Benson, the offer of help.

Darcy’s eyes were wide and he’d forgotten to eat any more ice cream. “Seriously? What did you say?”

I grabbed another spoonful of cold deliciousness. No sense in it going to waste. “I told him I wouldn’t have sex with him.”

Darcy laugh-snorted and covered his mouth with his hand. “And he asked for your number after that?”

I licked my spoon. “He said he wanted a friend to be his date for his sister’s wedding, someone who wouldn’t have any expectations about what going to a family wedding would mean.” I should have asked more questions. Now that I was telling Darcy, it seemed even less plausible. He’d said something about a lawyer, but still.

Darcy’s eyes were a little glassy, so I waited while he considered.

“You gave him your number, and then…” He waved his hand, ready to move on now.

“Then I went to meet a potential new client Mr. Anderson was courting. He said some complimentary things about me, and I’ll look up some of the tax information this guy needs, see if we can help him.”

Darcy nudged me with his shoulder. “What happened with Cooper?”

“I don’t know. After he got my number, I went to meet Mr. Anderson’s client.”

Darcy opened his mouth, closed it, then sat back, ignoring the ice cream. “That was…that was something. But yeah, not sure he’s gonna call after that.”

I ignored the jolt of disappointment. Obviously, a big hockey star wasn’t going to call up and give me golf lessons. I’d take care of the golf lessons myself. But that was okay. I’d learned a lot of lessons in my life. And one I clung to was to rely on no one else. If I earned something, it was mine, and it was a lot harder to take it away. Gifts were too easily taken back.

I’d earned my law degree. I’d earned the money for the down payment on this condo.

I’d earn the partnership and then they’d have a difficult time getting rid of me.